


Every Morning

by the_pen_is_mightier



Series: waking up to you [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Softness, They love each other, morning fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pen_is_mightier/pseuds/the_pen_is_mightier
Summary: They wake up together, and they know they'll never be parted.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: waking up to you [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504895
Comments: 45
Kudos: 189





	Every Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy friends, this is probably going to be the last of my "waking up to you" series. While I'm still going to write ficlets from time to time, I've got some big multi-chapter fics coming up now, and they're what I plan to focus on. (If you like Les Miserables, STAY TUNED FOR THAT.) I'd like to thank everyone for all the love and support you've poured into this series; your happy comments legitimately always make my day. Please never, ever change.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy this story and wash your hands!

“Angel.” 

The word was whispered, soft and sleepy and content. Aziraphale had his arms wrapped loosely around Crowley as he rose up from dreaming; their foreheads rested together and their noses brushed, and Crowley’s eyes, slitted and otherworldly yet sleep-crusted and so very human, gazed adoringly into his.

“Angel,” he murmured again.

Aziraphale kissed his lips with all the gentle softness of the dawn. His eyes slid shut as he did, relishing Crowley’s joyful acceptance of it. “Yes, my love?” 

“Am I going to wake up next to you every morning?” 

It was incredible, the way such simple things could melt Aziraphale’s heart. Without any dashing rescues or escapes or miracles, without the grandeur and display Crowley was so fond of, still Aziraphale could fall ever more deeply in love. The question was so small, spoken so softly, and yet it was seeded with so much quiet hope. 

“Do you want to?” Aziraphale asked him, tracing gentle patterns along his back. 

“I do.” 

“Then yes.” 

Crowley sighed, a deep, contented sigh. He nestled closer to Aziraphale, and Aziraphale tightened his embrace, drawing Crowley against his soft chest. He ran a hand down Crowley’s spine and held him as he shivered with pleasure. 

“Are we going to have breakfast together every morning?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale smiled and kissed Crowley’s forehead. Daily breakfast had been a trend they’d only developed recently, since neither of them needed to eat - Aziraphale’s tastes had mostly leaned toward fine dining before, but he’d discovered that simple toast and eggs eaten across a table from Crowley were as delicious as the most expensive dinners in the world. “Yes, I think so.”

Crowley’s lips lovingly brushed Aziraphale’s throat. His arms snaked around Aziraphale’s padded waist, cradling the gentle dips and swells of his belly. “Will you be just like this?” 

“Oh, my Crowley.” Aziraphale caressed his neck and shoulders. “I have no intention of changing myself.” 

Crowley tucked his head under Aziraphale’s chin and kissed his chest.

“Will you stay just as you are, my darling?” 

Those liquid-gold eyes smiled up at him. Saturated with happiness, now, not a drop of fear or pain or weariness. A sight to put a blissful song in Aziraphale’s heart. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” 

“Well, then.” 

They were quiet for a moment. The room brightened a little as the sun rose through the blinds; soon they would have to get up if they wanted breakfast together. But they had a few more minutes at least to lie still in each other’s arms. He could continue to stroke his fingers down Crowley’s shoulder blades, teasing at the sensitive spot where his wings would appear, and listen to Crowley’s little hums of satisfaction. He could continue to accept Crowley’s kisses on his collarbone, his neck, his jaw. 

And when they had to move, he could know, with all the certainty of six thousand years of love, that they would be back on this bed come tomorrow.

What an incredible thing. To be so deeply, so completely sure. After a lifetime of confusion and uncertainty and fear, what a blessing. 

“Every morning,” Aziraphale sighed. “Just like this. We have eternity, dearest.” 

Crowley squeezed him gently. “We do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like my content? Find me on tumblr @[whatawriterwields](https://whatawriterwields.tumblr.com)!


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